Author's
Notes: Title of story and lyrics provided by the music artist, El-P.
Um, yet a different ship involving Catherine. I've got serious
multi-shipper issues. : P Anyway, I don't write a lot of Sofia. I
tried.

Category:
Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:
I would laugh right now if I weren't so damn sad. Catherine/Sofia; spoilers for Dead Doll

The
Overly Dramatic Truth

by
e-dog

-----------------

Should've
listened, should've left

I
can't stop unless you jet

It's
so simple, open head, I will knit my savage threat

Help
me help you, walk away, leave this on amazing grace

-----------------

"Sofia?
Is that you?"

I
turn around, a cup of steaming coffee attached to my lips and my
sunken, dark eyes hidden behind aviator shades. Who was that? I
don't see them. God, what time is it?

It's
morning, right? I've just pulled a very long shift. Almost 38
hours, actually. I didn't go home last night. Er, yesterday.

I
don't see my caller until a hand waves in front of my eyes. I
blink and Catherine Willows comes into focus. I twitch my mouth into
an embarrassed smile, then remember that I'm actually still
drinking and some coffee dribbles down my chin. Perfect. I think I
hear her giggle, but I'm too tired to care. I wipe at my mouth
hastily with a sleeve and manage to speak, "Catherine?"

"You
among the land of the living, Detective?"

I
look around. Jokingly, I remark, "Well, I know I'm standing
outside attempting to drink the coffee I just purchased from that
café right over there." Then I pause, perform a 360°
and then correct myself, "No, I purchased it there."

Every
town has them, I suppose. Even Vegas. That one intersection that
has a coffee/internet café on every corner. This is one of
those places. I really don't remember which café I was
just in and that scares me.

"I
was just getting some coffee myself," Catherine says, her eyes
flashing with a bit of concern.

"Sure,"
I agree begrudgingly. Not that I had better plans, mind you. I was
actually going to drink this steaming cup of coffee in my car, maybe
take a nap and then head back to headquarters. Paperwork. There's
always paperwork. I can't believe I'm eager to push paper
around. Something is definitely wrong with me.

I
think this is the same café I was just in mere minutes ago. I
don't know. Not sure I care. We find an empty table along the far
wall. Nice big windows. I'm immediately distracted by sunlight
reflecting off shiny cars.

Shiny.
God, I'm tired.

I'd
rather not remove my sunglasses, but it's kinda dark in here
already. So I pull them away and hope I don't look as horrible as
I feel.

"She's
not worth it," Catherine says simply.

I
look at her inquisitively. She notices I'm playing stupid,
pretending to not know what she's talking about. She half smiles,
"Working yourself to death. She's not worth that kind of pain."

I
open my mouth, then shut it again. What am I to say? Catherine's
right. Annoyingly enough, she's always right. I sip at my coffee,
which has downgraded itself from steaming hot to lukewarm rather
quickly. I shake my head and say,"It's not about her. There was
nothing there anyway."

"You're
tired. I'm going to excuse that last remark as a result of
weariness," Catherine scolds lightly.

I
fiddle with a napkin on the table. I look up at Catherine, her brow
creased ever so slightly. Her mouth turned down in a frown. My jaw
tenses as everything I've tucked away is surfacing again. I shake
my head again, refusing to look her in the eyes. Catherine is one of
the best lie detectors I know.

"I
don't even know how Nick found her," I say aloud, my voice soft.
"Luck, I guess. Sara was just lying there. She looked dead. It
sounds so childish, but I wish I had been the one to go with her.
When Gil came rushing in and just took over, I knew. I should've
guessed it was him."

I
feel Catherine's hand on mine. I'm forced to look at her now.
She sighs, "There's nothing either of us could've done. She's
always loved him."

I
would laugh right now if I weren't so damn sad. Catherine and I
have one thing in common: Sara Sidle. The brunette got under our
skin, she permeated our thoughts. I think for Catherine, it had
always been about satisfying her curiosity. For me, I let myself
fall and I fell hard. Too hard. Stupid of me, sure, but it
happened.

"This
feels more formidable than it really is," I confess with a small
chuckle. "I never told her anything, never hinted at my feelings
for her and I still feel like she ripped my heart out."

"Been
there," she says. I believe her. Sara Sidle is a heartbreaker.

Catherine's
hand is still on mine as she rises from her seat. I stand with her.
She mentions something about driving me home and that sounds so good
right now. I really want her to drive me home, maybe stay a while.
We can commiserate over the loss of Sara together. Although I know
it hurts me more than it hurts her. She wasn't in love with Sara.
Lusted after her, but Catherine was never in love.

I
was in love. I still am.

Entering
my apartment, sleep is far from my mind. Fatigue does crazy things.
You get sloppy, desperate. Though, I guess this won't be the first
time Catherine and I have danced this dance. This won't be the
first time I've pinned her to a wall, nipped at her neck and/or
forced my leg between her thighs, pressed up against her sex. This
won't be the first time I've heard her gasp in my ear.

My
bed is the next stop, but when we get there, exhaustion and emotion
hit me all at once. I roll off Catherine and just stop, my focus on
the ceiling and my heart thumping loudly. I'm sure Catherine is
thinking we still have way too many clothes on for this little
rendevous, but I've suddenly realized that this is not the comfort
I seek. This won't cure the ache. Not this time.

"Catherine,"
I say, my voice hoarse. "I just. . ."

I
don't know what to say. It's not like me to start something I
can't finish.

Catherine
props up on an elbow and says softly, "We can just sleep, Sofia.
Let me hold you?"

I
look at her, confused by her questioning tone. She's asking if she
can hold me? Why the hell wouldn't she be allowed to? Sex kinda
allows for that sort of thing, but even my tired mind has finally
come to its senses. I had been so clouded with Sara, I had been
overlooking something I've always had. Overlooking something that
was real.

I
sit up now, study every inch of Catherine's face and the stupidity
I felt over Sara before has nothing on the idiocy I feel now.
Catherine lusted after Sara. Catherine loves me.

I
tuck her golden hair behind her ears, then cup her face. I lean in,
give her mouth a chaste kiss and ask, "Stay with me?"

Catherine
nods her accord, then lies with me. Her arms wrap around me like a
cloak, an overwhelming gesture of acceptance and love. Catherine
loves me.

Maybe
in time, I could learn to love her back.

-----------------

This
is not my ego talking, I know I'm no perfect draw

And
I do love the way you lay there, I do like the way we talk

Maybe
I'm just condescending, maybe this thing isn't wrong

Maybe
you should lay right there, put your hands up in the air

-----------------

The
End.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.